I'll Be
by Relatively Unknown
Summary: The story of John & Claire with a song. (One-shot - Songfic)


**A/N**: I was going through some old CDs, and I found this song. The moment it played, I knew it was the perfect song for John and Claire. I thought the story out, and began typing an hour and forty minutes ago.

The song is "I'll Be" by Edwin McCain, and this is it.

Enjoy.

SANITIZED: LYRICS HAVE BEEN REMOVED. THIS IS THE FFNET APPROVED, SANITARY, MADE-FOR-KIDDIES VERSION. TO VIEW THE ORIGINAL, GO TO MY SITE AND VENTURE UNDER "THE WORKS" AND THE APPROPRIATE SHOW.

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_MISSING WORDS_

It was her eyes. That had been the first thing he had noticed about her, long before that Saturday had come. With her natural vivid red hair and shining green eyes, she stood out from her friends. They were frizzy-haired, blonde Madonna-wannabes, but she-- she was different.

And he had noticed.

It wasn't until that Saturday, though, that he had a chance to really study them. They were green, but were speckled with golden brown and gave them a depth that he had never seen before. No matter what she was feeling, he could instantly tell with just a look at her eyes; they reflected her every thought.

At the end of the day, when she had handed him her earring, he saw something in those eyes, reflecting, that had made him lean in with a gentleness he hadn't known he possessed.

He wondered if anyone else had ever bothered to look at her eyes.

_MISSING WORDS_

That moment had occupied his entire thoughts on the following Sunday, even though he had assumed that nothing more would ever happen. Why would it? Good things just didn't happen to him. The Fates had decided to blacklist him for whatever unknown reason, and that was that. Pure and simple.

Of course, nothing is ever pure and simple.

On Monday, nothing had happened. It had been expected, so he was disappointed. But then, on Tuesday, something had changed. She had smiled at him, and then later that same day, she had said hello. On Wednesday, she had spoken to him again, this time a real, true conversation. Thursday, she had taken his hand before they entered school, and it had stayed there whenever possible throughout the day.

Then... then came Friday. In the hallway, in front of her friends, his friends, their friends, hell, even in front of Vernon, she had _kissed_ him. No chaste second-ever kiss, either, but a true kiss. Never in his life had he ever felt so much in such a little action. Nothing else had mattered, not the catcalls, jeers, cheers, or Vernon yelling at them to cut it out or it would be another detention. He didn't care, because in that moment he finally knew what paradise must be.

And he wanted more.

_MISSING WORDS_

That kiss had sealed it that day. By the next Monday, everyone knew, but he had known in that moment. After that, they were inseparable. He finally understood the 'one guy, one girl' concept that she had asked him about, because no other girl entered his thoughts. With his previous girlfriends, his thoughts were on his next or the ones he 'considered.' But not with her; no, she was special. She was his, and he was hers.

No one had thought it would last. Even their friends had confided that they weren't too sure about it, since they could have some serious fights. Even so, though, they had endured, and if anything, had become closer each time because of it. His friends had eventually accepted her, but her friends had berated her for her 'fling' and had eventually ditched her. By then, however, she hadn't cared less, and frankly, neither had he.

They lasted. Two years went by, and all of a sudden they had been graduating. If he had thought that was shocking to him, then he had almost given Vernon a heart attack when he had walked into his office-- of his own volition-- and asked for a favor. Vernon had laughed at him, but asked what he wanted anyhow. He had told him, and the principal honestly had looked like he was going to keel over from disbelief. But it had worked, and that night, right before the ceremony was over, Vernon had taken the microphone and called five names to come up to the stage, then handed the microphone over to him.

With everyone watching, wondering, and their friends beside them, he had taken a small box from his pocket, bent down on one knee, and asked her to marry him. He could hear people gasp and hold their breath, waiting for her answer. And those eyes, those emerald and gold eyes, had stared at him, just staring. A moment pass, and tears had begun to well up. She had shaken her head slightly and panic had begun to set in for him. Then she had smiled and said yes, reversing what he had done that Saturday.

He should have known better. She was his Princess, after all.

They had been married three months later at the ocean, with Ally as the maid-of-honor and Andy and Brian as his co-best men. The roles were reversed a few months later when Andy and Ally had married, although theirs was a smaller affair in a church outside Shermer. Both had been, much to his amusement, white weddings.

_MISSING WORDS_

John smiled. Claire was snuggled up beside him, at the border between asleep and awake, her head resting comfortably on his chest. The rain poured down outside, and he couldn't help but let his smile grow. It had rained on that Friday, as well. He had taken that as a good sign, since he had always loved the rain. The rain on their wedding day had cheered him for that very reason, especially since it had stopped just long enough for the ceremony, and then promptly began again.

It had rained on Ally and Andy's wedding day, too. He had told them what he thought of it, and while they had laughed, he could tell that it had cheered them, too.

None of their lives were very easy at the moment, but they all were happy. Claire's family had disowned her, but like with her so-called friends, she hadn't cared a bit. John was working at a mechanic's shop, and while the pay so great yet, his boss said he was good and would probably be running the place in a few years. Claire was working part-time as a waitress to put herself through beauty school, and her teachers were encouraging towards her, saying she had great prospects. They didn't have much, but they had each other, and that was enough.

Claire had saved him. He didn't know if she knew that, but he honestly wouldn't be surprised if she did. She could read him just as well as he could read her eyes, although he didn't know how. It was true, though; she had saved him. Even back then he knew he was heading for destruction, but hadn't cared at the time. Carl's prediction of him committing suicide probably was right on target. But then she came, and with just a smile and a kiss, had brought up out of the darkness.

He tightened his grip on her and smiled at her when she looked up at him.

_MISSING WORDS_

"What are you thinking about?" she asked.

"Everything," he replied, grinning as she sighed and rolled her eyes.

"Must make your head hurt. Should I get you some Tylenol?"

"No, no, there's plenty of room for it. Not as much room as if I was, say, Sporto, but--" he was cut off with her lightly smacking him on the arm. "Ow," he said, pouting.

"Faker," she said.

He had barely let her finish the word before he was kissing her, kissing her with every emotion he felt at that moment. He would never tire of this; her kisses were more addicting than any drug, and the high she gave him never left. She was his Princess, his beautiful, feisty, fiery-haired and jade-eyed Princess.

"What was that about faking?" he asked after pulling away the barest amount possible. She smiled and kissed him, just as she had that Friday.

_MISSING WORDS_

They lost themselves to each other, the world disappearing around them. Casanova he wasn't, but by God did he worship her. There once was a time when he thought he could never feel like this about another person, especially a Princess, but he did and he thanked any and every god there was for it and for her with each breath he took.

The kisses became wild, hands touching, and feeling, just feeling and worshipping each other. He felt her lightly trace the numerous scars that were etched into his skin, then kiss them each. In that moment, he was thankful for those scars, and that finally they brought him good things, good memories. He gently took her face and brought it up to meet his in another feverish kiss.

He felt so much for her, and he was going to prove every ounce of it to her.

_MISSING WORDS_

Afterwards, they laid there again, a tangle of limbs and sheets, smiling and snuggling.

They whispered to each other, sweet little nothings, but both knew without saying a word. It was there, between them, that thing that each had dreamed of for the first sixteen years of their lives, and then were handed in the unlikely form of each other. It was there, always there, and so alive.

"Claire?" he said, unable to blink away the tears pricking at his eyes.

"Yes, John?" she murmured, worry in her eyes. He smiled and tightened his hold on her, nuzzling his face against hers.

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

_MISSING WORDS_

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**A/N**: I won't be long here, since I don't want to ruin whatever you are feeling. (Good and wanting to review, I hope.) 

A deleted scene from the movie was one where Carl told each of them where they would be in five years. He told John that he would have committed suicide by then. Also, the Casanova line is an adapted lyric from "I Can Love You Like That" by All-4-One, the other song which I listened to while writing this.

I hoped you liked it. Please review and tell me your thoughts. Good or bad, I like them all.

CrazyAce


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